


Cycle

by crow_tooth



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Character Death, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28722930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crow_tooth/pseuds/crow_tooth
Summary: Smudge never saw it coming. One second he was pushing kits out of the way, and the next he was surrounded by darkness.
Kudos: 12





	Cycle

**Author's Note:**

> my interpretation of smudge's death. nothing has been said about it by the erins, so i decided the cause of death to be something simple.

It happened quicker than Smudge had ever expected. He was a simple ten-year-old house cat, happily enjoying his morning kibble. He thought to himself that a walk around the neighborhood might be nice. He didn’t take much of those anymore. When he finished his meal, he pushed his way out of the cat flap and began walking on the pale sidewalk.

The silver bell on Smudge’s jade green collar jingled as he walked. He was allowed certain freedoms because his housefolk trusted him, and knew that he would never run away. Not like his old friend, Rusty -- _Firestar_ , he corrected himself. _His new name is Firestar. Not Rusty._ His kittenhood friend, Firestar, had run away and became leader of a group of wildcats. Now those wildcats had gone, their territory made into a new neighborhood.

Smudge walked slowly, enjoying the calm breeze in the faintly warm air. He chittered calmly at a young dog who ran up to him, barking playfully, its collar attached to a chain in the ground. At his age, you learn to take things as they come. Violence saves itself for young cats, he decided, so he didn’t have much fear in his life.

What a surprise that would be to kitten-Smudge.

Kitten-Smudge was a very fearful, childish cat. His growth had been gradual, but in the end he was happy to save such skittishness for the young ones. A dog snarls at him? Its housefolk will tend to it and calm it, or keep it away from him at the very least. A cat-less housefolk shoos him away? They didn’t mean him harm; they only wanted to be rid of him. A stray hisses at him? Bluffing.

Lost in his thoughts, at first Smudge didn’t notice two little kittens -- strays? -- playing in the road. They were so small that the housefolk in the car that was rapidly approaching didn’t see them. Quickly shaking himself awake, Smudge pounced into the road and shoved the kittens out of the way. They weren’t hit, but he felt his own bones and organs being crushed in an instant.

Then darkness.

Smudge opened his eyes. That darkness surrounded him. His fur was pushed upward by a harsh wind as he fell down a seemingly infinite void. He could feel his collar around his neck, but he couldn’t hear the bell jingling, or the name tag making contact with the bell. He twisted so that he would land on all fours, but ground never came.

How long had he been falling? He guessed days, but it could’ve been years for all he knew. His stomach ached with hunger, and his mouth was completely dry. He tried yowling out, and he could feel it croak out from his throat, but the noise didn’t reach his ears. Fear returned to him: a rare occurrence. What would happen to him here?

“Smudge,” something said to him. It wasn’t really a sound, more of a thought that he just _knew_ wasn’t his own.

“What?” he meowed, but again couldn’t hear. “Where am I? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” the thought spoke. “You were hit by that car, crushed by its tires. You’re dead now.”

“So when do I get to an afterlife?” Smudge asked.

A foreign purr of amusement rumbled in his throat. “You will not. That’s not how this works. You are nothing now.”

A pit of dread formed in his stomach. “But there _has_ to be _something_ ! This _can’t_ be it. Eternal nothingness?”

“Yes, Smudge, that’s right. You have lived your only chance at life, and that is all. Nothing happens after this.”

“Please, give me anything,” Smudge begged. “I’ll take any afterlife. Any!”

“There’s not one to give you,” the thought told him. “You believed in nothing, and so that is what you shall receive.”

Smudge cried out silently into the darkness from distress. “This can’t be it!” he repeated.

“Oh, you poor soul,” the thought purred. “I almost feel tempted to give you something after all, but I cannot. Goodbye, Smudge.”

He felt whatever it was vanish from his mind, his body, and he felt lonelier than ever.

While Smudge fell, he faced his life as he’d remembered it. He reflected on each and every choice he made, no matter how small. If only I’d done this, if only I’d done that -- that sort of thing.

Soon, the only sense he’d been left with -- touch -- vanished as well. For all he’d known, he could’ve stopped falling and could’ve been walking among the living again. To him, he was only a mind without a body. His memories soon began to leave him, little by little. He tried desperately to remember, but nothing remained by the end.

Smudge eventually gained his touch back. Cold air shocked him, and he felt a cry escape his throat, but he still couldn’t hear. He tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. His sense of smell returned too; the number of scents were overwhelming, and he cried out again. He felt a larger cat in front of him, and the sweet smell of milk found him. He crawled forward slightly and drank milk from the cat out of pure instinct, glad he could at least taste.

Smudge… wait, Smudge? Who was that? The little kitten didn’t know anything, its mind a blank slate. In the upcoming days, it would find out it was a tom-cat and would be given that strange name he’d forgotten by this point: Smudge. He would watch his best friend leave him, watch a she-cat replace that best friend, watch cats around him grow, leave, breed. And soon, in just ten years, he would do it all again after being hit by a car.


End file.
